This documentary relates a tale of how colonialism profoundly transformed
Kanaka Maoli (indigenous Hawaiian) society and the forms of love that
are acceptable in "the land of aloha." By contrasting the diversity of
gender and sexual practices in precolonial times with the stigmatization
and marginalization of transgendered and gay people in Hawai'i today,
the film asks us to ponder a question posed by Kanaka Maoli activist
Ku'umealoha Gomes at the beginning of the film: "Where did the change
come from?" The question is a rhetorical one, and the film does not
provide any explicit answers; rather, it forces us to draw our own
conclusions by making sense of the montage of testimonies, interviews,
dance performances, old photographs, artistic renderings, and scenes of
ocean and landscapes presented to us.

The film can be divided roughly into three sections. The first part
examines kulana (place, station, status, rank) in Kanaka Maoli society
and culture of the mahu, a term that was originally used for both
"hermaphrodites" and for transgendered males and females. Kanaka Maoli
and non-Kanaka Maoli scholars, activists, archivists, and kumu hula
(Hawaiian dance instructors) all affirm the acceptance of mahu in
traditional society. Mahu are interviewed and featured as important
cultural educators and practitioners, and they perform oli (chants) and
hula kahiko (traditional dance). Interviewees then relate a familiar
story of colonial decay as they describe the ways that the adoption
of western law, Christianity, and a cash-based economy, along with
the widespread loss of life and land (caused by disease and foreign
intrusion), threatened to wipe out Kanaka Maoli communities and ways of
life. Although Kanaka Maoli did survive, many today struggle with their
identities—none more than the mahu.

The second section, entitled "modern times," looks at the drag queen
community in Honolulu. Between
[End Page 231]
scenes of drag queen performances in nightclubs, about half a dozen queens
share their experiences and struggles with family, friends, and society. A
series of intimate and moving interviews with two queens and their
mothers reveals the spiritual and emotional trials that entire families
must go through, especially when struggling with AIDS
and Christianity. Academic and community leaders discuss famous mahu in
Hawaiian history as well as the occurrence of aikane, a practice in which
high-ranking ali'i (chiefs) took lovers of the same sex. The film then
addresses the same-sex marriage debate/debacle of 1998 in which a proposed
state constitutional amendment to grant the legislature the power to limit
marriages to heterosexual couples only galvanized both conservative and
liberal forces in Hawai'i and across the United States; above all else,
the film shows how the event divided the local community and misrecognized
gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgendered (GLBT) lives.

The final part of the film, "a story of aloha amidst Western exclusion,"
documents a tradition of love and caring in times when Kanaka Maoli
communities were being torn apart by epidemics. Even when the Hawaiian
government was forcibly quarantining individuals afflicted with
leprosy (Hansen's disease), the bonds of 'ohana (family) outweighed
the law. Caroline Sinavaiana-Gabbard, a Samoan writer and professor
at the University of Hawai'i, warns that this tradition of acceptance
is being threatened by the "tyranny of the binary frame" (the division
of the world into stratified "either-or" categories) that is currently
in place as a result of colonization. In the final fifteen minutes or
so, the film brings together the multiple discussions that have been
occurring throughout, with the addition of a story of a gay man who
died a suspicious and tragic death. It then ends where it began, with
Ku'umealoha Gomes asking, "Where did the change come from?"

This is an ambitious and pioneering film, which creates space for public
dialogues that have heretofore revolved primarily around the moral
or legal ethics and implications of recognizing GLBT
lives. Focusing on the historical transformation of the status of mahu
highlights a number of things: the imbrication of structures of racism,
classism, sexism, and homophobia; the importance of recognizing a Kanaka
Maoli genealogy for transgendered and same-sex sexual practices in
Hawai'i; and the deep spiritual interconnectedness of the people, land,
ancestors, and gods/God. Hawai'i-born writer/director/producer Kathryn
Xian states that the film is a critique of colonialism and globalization
and is meant to foster a sense
of pride in Kanaka Maoli and other mahu and queens (personal
communication, 28 May 2002). It also aims to instill confidence in
the families and friends of transgendered people and to show larger
heterosexual audiences that these people are just like anyone else. Zang
Pictures, a grassroots company Xian cofounded in 1999,
approaches film production (primarily about Asian/Pacific experiences) "as
social and community activism, as well as an integral forum for artistic
expression" (www.zangpictures.net). As both an activist intervention, and
[End Page 232]
as a venue for mahu performance,
the film is effective.

At the same time, some people may feel that the film tries to do too much
and is not very successful at conveying a single coherent message. Some
parts either did not seem to fit or were insufficiently explained to
allow viewers to make associations. The film also does not do a good
job of really explaining the term mahu and to whom it applies. At
various times and by various people it is glossed as "transgendered,"
"transsexual," "two-spirited," "both kane and wahine, both male
and female," "cross-overs," "physical hermaphrodites," "practicing
homosexuality," "gay," and "transvestites and cross-dressers." There is
no discussion of how the usage of the term has transformed historically,
or even to whom it primarily applies today (for more discussion of this,
see 'O Au No Këia [2001] by Andrew Matzner, a collection of
oral history interviews with fifteen mahu and transgendered males on
O'ahu, some of whom are featured in the film). Likewise, there is no
discussion of the diversity of gay experiences (not to mention those
of the larger GLBT community) or the contradictions of
labeling all gay men (who may be quite gender normative) as being mahu
(which I take to be a separate gender with its own cultural meanings).

Despite its shortcomings, Ke Kulana He Mahu treats the lives and
experiences of mahu and transgendered people with love, intelligence,
and dignity. When I attended a free screening and panel discussion at
Leeward Community College on O'ahu,
I was impressed by the responses elicited from members of the audience. A
number of people who were admittedly unfamiliar with transgendered
communities were able to ask the panelists questions that may have come
off as a bit awkward but at least signaled a willingness to engage in a
new dialogue. Some GLBT individuals present identified with
the struggles portrayed and thanked the filmmakers for doing something
so important. Other people shared warm and funny anecdotes about mahu
in their own families. As a heterosexual Kanaka Maoli man, I realized
how ignorant I really was and am, despite my claims of being open and
having gay and lesbian friends. I have come to more fully appreciate
the fact that true decolonization in Hawai'i will entail
a fundamental rethinking of personhood, human relations, spirituality,
and aloha, and this film will move us in that direction.

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Additional Information

ISSN

1527-9464

Print ISSN

1043-898X

Launched on MUSE

2003-02-10

Open Access

No

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